


He Took The Time

by LibertyBelleAnne



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibertyBelleAnne/pseuds/LibertyBelleAnne
Summary: Eight Times Time took care of his boys and one time they took care of him. Set in the Linked Universe AU.
Relationships: Malon (Legend of Zelda)/Time (Linked Universe), Sky (Linked Universe) & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 142





	1. Twilight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters and world are based on the AU world, Linked Universe, created by jojo56830 on Tumblr. Which is in turn based on the characters and world created by Nintendo.

**He Took The Time**

The oldest of the group was growing worried. He'd sent the youngest three of their party to town. The party was growing stir crazy, with no new monsters to fight lately. Tempers began to flare as boredom led to increased teasing and practical jokes. He'd sent the wolf along to keep them out of trouble. But as the sun began to set he'd worried that he'd made a wrong choice sending them alone.

He had just strapped on his weapons and was heading down the trail leading to town when he came upon the protector he'd sent. He was alone and no longer in wolf form. Worse case scenarios flashed through his mind as he stumbled toward the young man.

"Pup!"

"I'm fine, Old Man."

"What happened?"

"Moblins."

"Are the others alright?"

"Yeah, they're good." Not all the members knew of his secret transformation. "I left them on the trail so I could transform before they made it back to camp."

Everything seemed to have an explanation except why the younger hero was bracing an arm against his side. If he was injured in their skirmish, they needed to attend the wound. There was no point in hiding an injury. There was no room for pride, stubbornness, or independence when it came to the health of each member of the group. Because an unhealed wound could mean the difference between victory or loss; life, or death.

"Then what's wrong with your ribs?"

"Nothing," He seemed a little too defensive. Pulling away as the older man reached to examine for possible hidden injuries.

Growing suspicious the leader gave an order, "Let me examine your wound."

"I don't have a wound," He could almost see the wolf in the growled words.

He glared with his good eye as the other squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. They waited in silence neither wanting to give an inch. The same stubborn blood flowing through their veins. Before finally the younger huffed a sigh of annoyance at losing to his ancestor.

"I'm fine, but she's not," He pulled out a wounded creature from under the protection of his tunic. "I heard her cries in the woods after we defeated the Moblins."

"The Moblins did this?"

He nodded, quieting her whimpers.

"Well, we best give this one some healing potion."

"But the Captain said we were running low and we couldn't waste them on trivial wounds."

"This seems more than a simple burn or bruise."

"But..."

"Helping those in need is what we are meant to do."

"Thank you."

"Come, let's get her back to camp."

They began walking back side by side. The older hero gave his descendent a knowing look out the corner of his good eye.

"And Pup, don't think I don't know about those cracked ribs. We will be taking care of those when we get back to camp as well."


	2. Warriors

**He Took The Time**

Two Heroes stumbled through the woods. The older one acted as a crutch; helping his wounded companion on their journey. They had been ambushed by a pack of lizalfos. The Old Man and the Captain had decided to scout out an unusually active dimension gate trying to find a pattern in order to plan attack strategies to get a handle on the situation. What was supposed to be a stealth mission that was purely intel-gathering had turned into a bloody ambush when they had been discovered by the enemy.

"Captain, we need to get back to the others."

"Keep your tunic on, Old Man. I'm going as fast as I can," He hissed in pain as his wounded leg was jostled. He tried to keep in straight and immobile but it proved to be an impossible task. They'd been unprepared and were overwhelmed by the enemy. They'd tried to contain them if they couldn't destroy them. Many had escaped when they'd both taken bad hits. The Captain had taken a bad hit to his leg limiting his mobility while his companion had somehow gotten his sword arm crushed limiting his fighting ability. They barely made up one warrior between the two of them. Yet they stumbled along behind their enemy trying to save the younger members of their group.

"They'll be fine."

"They are strong warriors," The Captain agreed, yet he couldn't dispel the feeling of dread deep in his gut.

They continued to try and reassure one another between gasps. Strategizing between pants and waves of pain. They knew that the others would be fine. There were seven heroes against what was left of the hoard. They were strong fighters with many powerful weapons. They fought well together and would watch one another's back. Tired and wounded from their fight they soldiered on to make it back to their comrades. The Captain and the Leader refused to let them fight alone. They refused to let something happen to those they'd promised, in their hearts, to protect. Nothing would happen to them if they could help it.

The Captain felt himself float in a place between awake and unconsciousness. He let the pain flow through him trying to preserve his energy. He was the one that'd need to fight when the time came. He carried the only weapon between the two of them since the older man had to hold him up with his good arm.

He felt his human crutch slow, "We need to stop."

"We can't, we have to save the others." He didn't know how much time had passed but he knew they were falling too far behind at the slow speed they had to go.

"The others will be fine. But you won't be if we don't get that bleeding under control."

"I'm fine."

"For being so smart at healing others, you can be really stupid when it comes to your own health."

"I can make it."

"I know ya can, because we're gonna get this bleeding stopped."

He was given no choice. After being sat against a nearby tree trunk he was given a stick to bite down on to preserve his teeth and keep the enemy from being alerted to their vulnerable position. The two worked together using both his working arms and the Old Man's good one; they were able to put enough pressure on the wound to stop its flow.

He lost time again.

The first thing we noticed when he awoke was the feeling of safety. Which surprised him, since the last thing he remembered was pain, danger, and worry. He cracked open his eyes when he heard laughter. It was definitely not the Old Man laughing. As his vision cleared he took in the sight of eight heroes banged up but whole, sitting in the firelight.

He laid there, weak from blood loss, just drinking in the sight of all his companions safe.

A voice came quietly from his left, "They finished off the lizalfos and then came hunting when we didn't make it back," He turned to see the Old Man sitting near him with his arm in a sling.

He tried to push himself up but fell back as his body refused to support him. He needed to get up. He needed to run a perimeter check, make sure all the enemies were eliminated, and draw up a battle plan. He needed to make sure everyone was truly alright and attend to any wounds.

"Stop worrying," The Old Man laid his good hand on the younger man's trembling shoulder, "It's all been taken care of."

"No...need to," He gasped through the pain, trying to push himself up again.

The hand on his shoulder kept him down, "It's okay to let other people help you. You don't have to do everything."

He caught his breath as he lost patience with the older man, "I do and I don't try to do everything."

The Old Man just gave him a look out of his one good eye. They sat in silence glaring at each other. They only broke eye contact when a loud voice called that the Captain was awake. Cheers went up and he didn't have the heart to call them down about being so loud so close to an overly active gate. They all came running over smiling and talking over one another. All he could do was smile and take their concern and good-natured ribbing. Tomorrow when he had more energy he'd secure the area, strategize, and get back at the ones teasing him about fainting, missing the fight, and his rumpled appearance.

But that was for tomorrow. Tonight he'd let the other Links take care of everything.


	3. Legend

**He Took The Time**

The pink in his hair was fading, but not quickly enough for the Link dressed in red. The mighty Captain had opened his big mouth again. He was tired of the others and their teasing. There was a reason the Spirit of the Hero only came once a generation. Having more than one hero at a time seemed to him an impossible challenge. One he wondered if he could live with. All he'd wanted was dinner but the others just had to be annoying. Touching his hair, laughing, and saying stupid stuff that just made him so mad. So he'd stalked off into the woods and now he was mad and hungry.

He sat down with a huff on the first convenient stump that was far enough from camp. He let out a strangled yell as he angrily ran both hands through his hair. Dropping his head into his hands, his body deflated. He felt drained. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

He wanted his own time. He wanted his own adventures. He wanted his own Sword. He wanted his own name back. He wanted to be the only Hero.

He just wanted to go home.

A hand dropped to his shoulder. He jumped up pulling out his ice rod. Ready to face his attacker head-on. He was done being pushed around.

The Old Man said with a small, sad smile, "I was just like you." The younger hero angrily shrugged off the unwanted hand. The other just held his hands up in surrender, his smile never fading. The Old Man waited until the ice rod was put away before he sat down next to the still upset young man. He left some space.

The younger man was determined to stew in silence. He decided to ignore the Old Man until he finally just left. He learned if you acted unpleasant enough most people didn't stick around. Most people. The stupid hero couldn't take a hint.

"We're nothing alike," He snarled at the older man, who'd given up adventures, settled down, got married, and became a farmer. He would never do that. He'd never betray the quest for love. He was a Hero.

He bristled at the soft chuckle. He hated it when people laughed at him.

"Hot-headed, full of piss and vinegar. Just itching to fight the whole world."

"What would you know about that?" The young man hissed at his elder.

"More than I wish."

He wasn't ready to stop being mad. If he stopped being mad then he'd start feeling the other stuff. The anger filled up the empty places. But he didn't really want to be alone.

The Old Man started back towards camp.

"Wait," He called out before he even knew he wanted to.

Even if he was angry, he didn't have to be alone.


	4. Hyrule

**He Took The Time**

The Old Man and Captain had come to the conclusion that letting the younger heroes go to town alone together was just an invitation for trouble. As such, they had become chaperones on all trips to town. Much to the dismay of the others.

"I don't need a babysitter," The Hero argued. He pulled out his fire sword to show he could take care of himself. All he needed to get was some bottles, he didn't need a minder for that. Yet here was the Old Man at his side on the way to town, to keep him out of trouble.

The trip to town went without a hitch. He was purchasing his glassware. With his protective shadow hovering behind him, nobody dared mess with him.

The overly cheerful merchant was back in his face with a large fake smile, "Just the bottles for you today, Sir?"

"Can we interest you in today's special?" He nodded, distracted by studying a small chip in one of the jars.

"Bananas," All hell broke loose. The two Heroes easily took out the Yiga threat but not without a price.

He fell to his knees. He looked down at his newly purchased bottles smashed against the cobblestone streets. All he wanted was one nice thing. Just one day to himself spent shopping. No life or death battle. No other heroes, no bad guy trying to kill him, just him and his nice new bottles.

"Are you alright?" The Old Man asked.

"Everyone thinks I'm always happy. That nothing gets me down."

"What are you talking about?" The older Link sat down next to him, "Nobody thinks that."

"Yes, you do!" He jumped up and began pacing in agitation. He could hear the glass crunch beneath his boots.

He felt the other's wedding ring through his tunic as the older Link placed his hands on his shoulders. This stopped his movement forcing him to look into the damaged eye. It felt like another point against him.

"Nobody can be happy all the time."

"I feel like I have to be. And most of the time I am. But sometimes I feel I don't have the right to feel upset or sad because I've had such a good life."

"Everybody has a right to their feelings, no matter their circumstances."

"But it feels like I'm being whiny and ungrateful. I never had to go through the challenges that all of you went through."

"Good."

"What…?"

"Good, I'm glad you never had to go through those challenges. I wish I could have spared the others. I would gladly take those burdens from anyone of you if I could."

"You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you for having a good life?"

"But you had such a hard time. Aren't you bitter towards me that I didn't?"

"Never."

After purchasing some new bottles the two Heroes headed home.


	5. Sky

**He Took The Time**

The Captain was polishing his sword, which wasn't odd since he did it after every battle. But he'd also taken time to bathe and wash his best tunic. As he fixed his hair his fellow heroes shared a grin. He had a date. The third one that week. Going to town with him would now be unbearable as he tried to dodge all his spurned lovers.

The group either laughed or chuckled at the situation the Captain was getting them into. He turned on them with a suspicious look. With a final pat to his hair and a swish of his blue cape, he turned away with a glare and a huff of annoyance. It didn't matter to him what the others thought, they were just jealous. He was going to spend the night with a lovely companion while the rest of his team was stuck with just each other's company.

The younger heroes catcalled and yelled taunts as a farewell to their beloved Captain.

"Aright that's enough," The Old Man laughed, "Ya chased him away."

"Now we just need to chase you away," The pink-haired hero crowed, "Then we can have a real party." The younger heroes cheered him on, needing some space from their babysitters. Throwing small sticks and pebbles at the Old Man good-naturedly.

"No need for violence. I'm goin'. I'm gonna spell Wolfie and do a perimeter check."

He waved at them with a chuckle as he headed deeper into the trees, "Try not to burn the forest down."

"No promises!" Someone yelled.

The Old Man stopped just out of sight, listening. He could hear his charges laughing, joking, and teasing one another. It didn't seem to be getting out of hand so he moved on with a smile. They'd be fine.

He saw a furry form just up ahead. Ruffling the wolf's head he smirked at the low growl. Without warning the canine changed form, just so he could use his human hand to smack away the offending hand.

"I could'a bit you."

"Ya wouldn't, Pup," The Old Man ruffles the human locks, "Now off to camp."

"What?"

"I know you were listening. So go have fun already." After a moment of hesitation, the younger hero lopped off to cut loose and unwind with his friends.

He continued his rounds, making sure no threat got by him to get to his charges. He would stay alert so they could enjoy themselves without worry. They'd taken down a lot of enemies lately, some downtime would do all of them some good.

Not all of his charges seemed to be enjoying themselves. The hero with the white cape walked up to him with unhappy air about him.

"The young'uns too much for ya to handle, kick ya out too?"

"No, they're just too much sometimes," He sat on a log with a defeated sigh.

The older hero sat next to bumping his shoulder, "You're getting old."

"Not as old as you, Old Man," He gave his older companion a half-hearted smile.

They sat in companionable silence. The Old Man watches as his companion unsheathes his knife and starts using it to strip the bark off of a small piece of wood. He lets his companion gather his thoughts before they continued their conversation.

Finally, the wielder of the Master Sword, hesitantly asked, "How did you know?"

"Know what?" The older hero asked watching the hypnotizing motion of the knife shaping wood.

"That you were ready for marriage?"

The scarred Link paused before he laughed, "I didn't, Malon did."

"I want what you have. But I don't think I can…" His hands stall momentarily on his whittling.

"After my adventures, I felt...empty, broken. Unlovable."

"I don't want to taint her. She's so full of light and I've seen so much. Done so much."

"Her light is what fills ya. Not the other way around. As long as you are honest and open. The right woman can help ya through the darkness."

"I don't want to take advantage of her."

"Ya won't," He clasped the younger hero's shoulder with a small smile.

"How can you know that?"

"Because it becomes a partnership. She's there for you. But you're also there fer her."

"Like a team?"

"Yes, ya fight the darkness together, side by side."

"I could do that," He smiles a true smile as he dusts off his completed carving. It is a small figuring of his love, Zelda. The Old Man sees it's complete and reaches for his side. He removes the straps securing his ocarina to his belt. He doesn't take no for an answer as he places the leather tie into the younger man's hand. He smiles as he watches the loving hands that almost reverently secure the leather to wood. Finally, it is placed around his companion's neck so it lays over his heart.

"I know ya can. You will make a wonderful husband."


	6. Wild

**He Took The Time**

He sat at the edge of the cliff looking down at the peaceful forest. But he knew that was a lie. The forest was full of danger and hidden evil. He'd let his guard down today and someone else had paid the price.

He and one of his companions had left at dawn to go hunt game for the group. After some time with no luck, they'd split up as his companion had transformed into his wolf form. He'd field dressed a dozen birds when the sun hit its highest point in the sky. Before the hunting pair split up they'd agreed to meet back at noon, where they parted ways. He'd gotten distracted with the last few birds and figured the wolf would kill him because he was going to be late.

In his haste, he'd become slightly turned around. By the time the wolf tracked him down he was overrun by Lizifols. Even with an extra sword fighting by his side, the battle was long and hard. One second his companion was fighting at his side and the next he was wounded at his back, taking a blow meant for him.

"He's gonna be okay," He jumped at the voice; coming out of his dark thoughts with his bow notched and ready. It was the second time he'd been caught unaware today.

He quickly lowered his arrow away from the Old Man and asked with a bitter scoff, "How can you know that?"

"While deep, the wound is easily mended," The older hero sat next to his vacated spot and looked over the valley, "The Captain says he will be good as new."

The young man stood a moment longer before sitting with a defeated sigh, "No thanks to me."

"You got him back to camp."

"He was wounded in my place."

"Then it was a place he chose to be." Even with one eye, the Old Man could stare you down to let you know he was serious and you better listen.

"Why would he do that?"

"Ya already know the answer to that."

"This is different than saving the Kid."

"How?"

He shrugged his shoulders trying to explain what just was, "We all watch out for him. He's the youngest, it's our job."

"It's our job to look out fer each other, we're a team." The younger hero fought off an eye roll, of course, he'd say that. Even without knowing his true age each hero often felt like a kid to the Old Man.

"I should have been better," He looked down at his bow in disappointment.

"You're a soldier, ya know better than that."

He was beginning to get frustrated, "But my training…"

"But nothing. You can't train for everything. Ya just take the situation that the Goddess gives us and try to make the best of it."

He gripped his bow tightly in frustration. He broke enough weapons as it was without throwing his only reliable one off a cliff in anger. He spoke a vow, "I need to be better."

"You are a true hero, a great warrior, and a good friend." The older hero placed his hand on his shoulder, emphasizing his words.

He shrugged off the hand, not ready to be comforted, "That did nothing to help protect my friend today."

They sat in companionable silence for some time as the younger hero digested the wise words spoken and came to terms with recent events. Finally, he seemed to accept what had happened and the sacrifice done on his behalf.

"He's really going to be okay?"

"Yes," He affectionately ruffled the long blonde locks, "Now let get back to camp before we fall off this cliff."


	7. Four

**He Took The Time**

He pounded the heated metal. Sweat dripped down his face and through his multi-colored tunic as he put more force behind his hits. He hit it again and again, taking his frustrations out on the almost sword. He was sick of everything. If it wasn't a short joke, it was a crack about his age. Too many elbows were placed on his head, too many attempted hair ruffles, being picked up with ease, too many people didn't take what he said seriously; there was only so much a man could take. He could usually take the other heroes' teasing; giving as good as he got.

But everything had just been piling up lately. They'd been in back to back skirmishes with hoards of monsters and beasts. In between battles he'd been up late repairing and sharpening weapons. Battle fatigue and lack of sleep had not helped his disposition or patience with his fellow warriors.

He'd found himself needing to split himself more and more as their enemies seemed to grow in strength. While it had never been a painless experience the increased use had begun to take a toll on him. His muscles felt stretched out, his bones ached and he had a persistent headache that refused to go away. It had been days. Emotionally he felt mixed up, one second he was laughing the next he wanted to punch someone's lights out. He felt like he had four people inside him trying to all break out of his skin, at the same exact time.

He'd always felt lost in a crowd. Now it felt like he was the crowd that he was lost inside of. He'd never been the most comfortable in his own skin growing up but now it sometimes didn't even feel like his skin. He felt so mixed up all the time it seemed. He just wanted to feel one emotion at a time. He wanted to know who he was and just be that person.

He looked down at the sword he was working on. He had gotten it too hot too quickly or pounded it too much or maybe it cooled too fast before he was done working on it. It didn't really matter because whatever he did, ruined it. Nothing was going right; he couldn't seem to do anything right. He threw away the ruined weaponry in a fit of anger.

The Old Man picked up the bent up piece of metal placing it back on the anvil. He waited in silence for the younger hero to start talking. Giving him time and space to gather his thoughts and words. The forger refused to look at him, instead choosing to ignore his presence altogether.

The older hero took a chance, on the recently moody hero, and started talking, "It's just bent." He waited for the young man to acknowledge his words.

"It's ruined," The shorter hero pushed the hunk of ruined metal back to the ground with a clatter.

"Nah, It just needs a little patience," He placed the hilt into the smaller hands, "Someone to take the time to fix it."

"What if no one wants to fix it," He asked, ashamed how close to tears he was, "Or what if it can't be fixed?"

"There will always be people who want to help." The Old Man pulled him into a hug, "Nothing is ever too broken, that it's beyond help."


	8. Wind

**He Took The Time**

The youngest of the group of heroes was missing. He'd gone to bed with the rest of his companions, but in the morning light, no one could locate him. He'd been slightly put out when he wasn't allowed to take any night watch. The youngster had nearly fallen asleep into his dinner, drained from the day's events. The heroes had spent the day on a rough and taxing hike. He was young and needed rest to regain his strength to continue scaling the mountain the next day. He finally went to bed with a huff when his arguments fell on deaf ears. No one had seen him since. They'd split up to search for their missing comrade.

"Kid!" The Old Man ran towards the stumbling form, "Where have you been?"

"I'm sick of everyone treating me like a baby," He shrugged away from the older man's helping hands. He continued up the trail with painful limping steps. The older hero followed with a sigh knowing the stubbornness of the hero spirit firsthand.

They continued up in silence, except for the younger's harsh, angry panting. Eventually, he began to pour out his hurt between breaths, "Nobody does that to the forger and he's not much older than me."

"I don't usually mind, but I don't feel like anyone trusts me to do the job," His anger deflated as he stumbled and nearly fell back down the path. He allowed the older man to lower him to the ground and off his sprained ankle.

The Old Man carefully checked his wound. His joint was badly swollen. He knew he needed to tread softly with the youngest hero. It would be so easy to brush away all his hurt feelings as being immature and sensitive. But he had legitimate concerns that he needed to air out. He needed to be listened to not brushed off. He needed to purge his emotional wound. And then they could cleanse the wound together so he spoke softly, "We trust you."

"Maybe, but not as readily or as fully as the older more experienced heroes," He spoke bitterly as he allowed the Old Man to wrap his hurt foot.

He didn't wait on the older man's help as he pulled himself up using a nearby stick as a crutch, "I may not have as much experience as the rest of you but the goddesses chose me to be a hero just as much as any one of you."

The older hero badly wanted to help the younger. But he watched him continue up the trail with only the help of his walking stick. He followed close behind just in case. But all he did to help was to continue listening as the boy talked, "Most of you started young just like me. Many of you started later. So if anything I will have more experience in the end."

"I can fight; defend myself and even protect the rest of you heroes as well." At the end of his rant he sat breathing heavily waiting for the older hero to tell him he was being a baby. The Old Man remained silent, waiting for him to continue leading the way up the path. He stood up and tried to continue on, gritted his teeth as the stick proved useless to get him over the large boulder he'd been sitting on.

Seeing his dilemma the older hero climbed up and silently offered his hand, "Perhaps we try to shelter you. But it is not because we think you are not capable. We've all seen you in battle. It is always an honor to fight at your side, just as it is with any one of the chosen heroes."

Their hands clasped after a moment of hesitation. Once they reached the other side they leaned against the boulder catching their breath, before continuing on their way. 

"Then why?"

"Perhaps it is because we all started out so young. We see in you, ourselves as we once were. This is not an easy life. It is not one I'd choose for anyone, let alone you eight," He paused with a fond smile thinking of his new and beloved companions.

"Not because you are not up for the job. You are more than capable and worthy of the title of hero. But it changes a person. They become great warriors but they lose something of themselves. They become harder, less innocent. If we can preserve that even for just a little while, it is worth it." He laid his hands on the small but strong shoulders as they stood together at the top of the mountain, "You did good, kid."


	9. Time

**He Took The Time**

The forest rang with the sounds of harsh, barking coughs. One lone hero was on watch. He propped himself up against a tree trunk with a shaky hand until the coughing attack subsided. The Old Man had been feeling under the weather for a few days. He thought he'd hid his symptoms well until he felt the eyes of a wolf drilling into his back while he tried to catch his breath.

"I'm fine, Pup," He spoke around his sore throat with a hoarse voice.

The wolf just cocked his head, huffing out a sound of disbelief. The shape shifter turned and ran off back towards camp. He'd better be going back to camp to sleep and not rally reinforcements. He didn't need help. He could do his duty and finish his watch. He was fine.

"You're sick," The Captain spoke without any preamble, sometime later. 

"I'm fine," He brushed off the concern, continuing walking the perimeter.

"No, you're not."

"I need to finish my watch," He dismissed the other hero.

"You need rest," The Captain laid a hand on his shoulder, "The others can take up the slack."

"I can do my job!" He shrugged out of his touch, leaving him behind in a huff. He needed to finish his watch. He didn't need the younger heroes coddling him. He was fine. Sweat began dripping down his face as his body tried to fight the disease trying to consume him. His steps wavered as his vision began to waver. He stumbled over a tree root and fell to the forest floor. Coughs ripped through his aching throat and pounding head as he hacked into the dirt. He let his anger flow through his veins to give enough strength to pull himself back up to his feet.

He panted into the bark of the tree that was the only thing keeping him upright. He didn't have time to be sick. He needed to be strong for the others. He kicked the tree with an angry growl. He was fine.

"You are like me," The pink-haired hero looked at him with wonder.

"I'm fine," He mumbled. How long the other was standing watching his tantrum he didn't know.

"Sure you are," The other smirked sarcastically.

"Go back to camp," The Old Man snapped. He didn't need an audience.

"It's okay to be upset," The younger hero called over his shoulder, "But you don't need to be alone either."

Once alone, he let his head thump against the abused tree in defeat. He wasn't feeling like himself. He just needed a moment of peace to collect himself and then he would be fine. He wasn't sick, just a little run down he tried to convince himself as he fell into another coughing fit.

"It's okay that you're not okay," The hero of Hyrule comforted.

"I'm fine," The Old Man hissed out, "I need to finish my patrol."

The younger hero seemed to take to hint and started to head back to camp. He stopped and turned with a smile and spoke cryptically, "Not yet. But you will be," Before he continued on his way. From anyone else it would have come out as an ominous threat. But from him it came out as a fact. A warm feeling tried to fill him at the promise. He fought it, he didn't need help; he was fine. He just need to be left alone so he could think.

All his companions showing up one after another was not normal. There was a conspiracy against him. It felt like something Malon would get a kick out of, but she wasn't here. He wished he could summon her to his side as easily as his fellow heroes seemed to be summoned. He watched through fever bright eyes as another one of his companions made their way to him. He stopped just out of reach, his white cape billowing softly behind him.

"What does Malon do when you're sick?"

"She ain't so nosy and leaves me in peace," He lied harshly. He missed his wife. She was so easy to just be himself with. He didn't always have to be in charge; he didn't always have to be strong.

"We could write her," The younger hero offered softly with an understanding smile.

He was so tired. His brain felt sluggish but he still knew she would not be safe in these woods. He was in no condition to protect her. He wanted nothing more than to lay his weary head against her and have her make the decisions until he didn't feel like he was being slowly burned alive. His legs refused to hold up his weight for another second. He slid down the rough bark and sat leaning against the tree.

"You said that you are there for the one you love, like a team," He knelt in front of the ailing warrior with a concerned look, "We'll we're your team. Let us help you."

He shook his head weakly, against the tree trunk. He needed to be strong for his team.

"We are here for you. When you're ready," The sick hero watched him walk back to camp.

He was being a pain. His friends didn't deserve his harsh words or childish behavior. They were just trying to help. They needed everybody in top shape in order to defeat the evil they were fighting. He was being the weak link that would shatter the whole chain.

"I guess I've been a little hard to deal with lately," He spoke, softly, to himself.

"Yes, you have," The archer spoke from above him, "You need to let us help you." 

"I'm fine." The Old Man defended wearily, "I can do my duty."

"You don't have to feel guilty for being sick."

He was to tired to even argue. The older hero felt his eyes close without his consent. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder before he sensed the archer walk back to camp. He sighed in frustration, why couldn't he just do his job. 

"You're sick."

He whipped his head around, blood shot eyes popping open, to see yet another hero materialize. Two in fact, one on each side, unless he was more ill then he'd thought and was now seeing double.

"You need to let us help you," The forger said fiercely, "Just like you've helped us."

"I'm fine," He croaked out, before falling prey to yet another coughing fit.

Their youngest warrior spoke up on his other side, "We don't think any less of you just cause you're sick."

"I'm fine," He tried one last time to convince himself that he wasn't sick.

"You can make it up to us by coming back to camp," The youngest hero spoke with a triumphant smile.

The two youngest heroes stood strong against the Old Man. He dropped his head against his chest in defeat. He clearly was not well, but he had a team that would help him until he was no longer sick. It seemed even longer than that as the rest of the group appeared out of the trees. He was surrounded by concerned heroes. It didn't matter if he was sick or well. It didn't matter if he was sad, angry, lonely, or happy. It didn't even matter if his pain was physical or mental. He had eight fellow heroes who cared about him.

"I guess I have been feeling poorly lately," He finally admitted.

Pup held out a hand and helped him stand up with a concerned look.

"You should have come to me before it got this bad," The Captain chastised while he laid a cool hand against his overheated skin to check the fever level.

"About time he admits it," The pink-haired hero scoffed.

"He just wanted to protect us," The Hero of Hyrule spoke softly in wonder, almost to himself. This caused all the heroes to pause and look at their sick companion. He was their leader, confidant, friend, and sometimes even their father. He took the time to care for each of them in their time of need. Yet he refused to ask for help because he was trying to be strong for all their sakes. Each hero vowed to be better. To be there for the Old Man just as he was there for them.

"What would your wife think about how sick you've let yourself become," The white caped hero tutted in disapproval as he helped hold up some of the ill hero's weight as he got checked out before they moved the sick man back to camp.

"We should have seen it sooner," The archer watched as it was revealed how sick he really was.

The forger shook his head, "It wouldn't have mattered because he still wouldn't have admitted it."

"Yeah, he's stubborn," The youngest hero said with a hint of awe.

The Old Man submitted himself to their care, just as he'd cared for each of them at one time or another. The Old Man allowed their words and ministration to wash over him. He cared deeply for each of these heroes who shared his name.


End file.
